


fuck, i'm spooky

by CookieMonstersRUs



Series: fuck, I love you, I love you [11]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BUTCHER HAS FEELINGS, Blow Jobs, Cock Slut, Come play, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Drunkenness, Feelings, Gay, Good Boy, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Hand Jobs, Hunger Games References, Intergluteal Sex, Kissing, Lube, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Praise Kink, Rim job, Slut Shaming, Sorry Not Sorry, Unsafe Sex, all good things, because no condoms, fantasies, for a hot second - Freeform, fuck buddies but MORE, i attempt to write a British accent, karl urban references, mentioned anal plug, mentioned come marking, more ooc than usual, so many mentioned sex acts, yes hughie cosplayed as cupid from xena, you know i had to do it to them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-06 04:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieMonstersRUs/pseuds/CookieMonstersRUs
Summary: Two Halloweens celebrated.Two happy boys indeed.





	1. i'm spooked, fuck

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one takes place before "fuck, i--" but after "fuck, i'm sleepy!" :D

_ Last Halloween…  _

There weren’t many children in Butcher’s apartment complex, but there were enough that after a few years, Butcher had started leaving out a basket of Kit Kats and Twix bars for the kids on Halloween night. He wasn’t particularly inclined to make small talk with giddy children, so he spared them the terror and let them take three pieces each if they wanted as he settled into his couch and turned on a B-rated horror flick and big bowl of popcorn. Butcher didn’t particularly care for Halloween, but he liked having the night off since MM had a little girl to trick or treat with and Frenchie had raves to go to with Kimiko. So Butcher spent the night on his couch and thought it was a pleasant time with his whiskey. He wasn’t lonely, fuck that, every man needed a night in or so by themselves.

Butcher had just finished  _ Shaun of the Dead  _ and was about to start  _ Zombieland _ when there was a knock at his door. Butcher ignored it, rolling his eyes. Stupid little twats, he put outside a sign about the candy and they wanted to bother him anyway. Butcher was going to ignore it, but then there was another knock on the door and a muffled shout of his name. Butcher, concerned now, got up from the couch and to the door. He peered through the peephole and chuckled, opening the door.

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Butcher told him. 

Hughie was dressed in one of the sluttiest outfits Butcher had ever seen on him and Butcher had seen Hughie begging for his cock on more than one occasion. He must’ve been at some sort of Halloween party because he’d gone sans shirt and was wearing the tightest gold booty shorts Butcher had ever seen. He’d also worn some gladiator sandals and baby angel wings on his back. He looked like sin. His nipples, on display for Butcher and anyone else that had come across him, were perky and begging for Butcher’s mouth. Butcher looked Hughie up and down, eyes darkened at the sight. Looks like his night was about to get a lot more interesting.

“I  _ needed  _ you,” he slurred and stepped forward.

Hughie wrapped his arms around Butcher’s neck and buried his head in Butcher’s neck. Butcher blinked at the action, not surprised by Hughie, but by the warmth in his chest. Hughie’s lips pressed against the skin of Butcher’s neck, tongue dragging against the skin there. Butcher’s eyes drooped and he clung tight to Hughie’s sides. 

“Is that so?” Butcher murmured in Hughie’s hair. 

“Yeah,” Hughie sighed, rubbing himself off against Butcher’s thigh. Butcher decided they’d been out in the doorway for too long and if Hughie kept doing that thing with his tongue, then a bunch of kids were about to get the scare of their life. He dragged his boy inside and locked the door behind them. Hughie, still shuffled in Butcher’s space, clinging to him, mewled at the change in scene and teased teeth. 

“Let’s get you some water, sober you the fuck up,” Butcher said.

“God, I want you so bad,” Hughie told him. His hand trailed down and cupped Butcher through his sweats. “Kept thinking about this. Wanted it in my mouth.”

“Oh?” Butcher tried shuffling them to the kitchen, but it was hard in more than one way. 

“Yeah--kept getting distracted,” Hughie confessed. “Wanted your cock so bad.”

“I don’t know,” Butcher hummed. He ran his hand through Hughie’s hair--Butcher knew Hughie liked that, it made him moan--petting him gently before threading his fingers through the curls and tugging. His voice lowered as he pulled Hughie’s face away from his neck so he’d have to look at him. “Horny slut like you would’ve gone down on anyone.”

“No,” Hughie whined. He tried to kiss him, hips pressed needily, rubbing off on him, but Butcher wouldn’t have it, keeping him still. “No, just you--just wanted you, Billy.”

“You wanna prove that, princess?”

“Fuck yeah.” Hughie immediately dropped to his knees, hair be damned. Butcher blinked at the sudden loss of Hughie, whose hands were already at Butcher’s waistband and whose lips were already mouthing at Butcher’s cock. Butcher moaned at the sensation, moaned at the sight of pretty, pretty Hughie on his knees for Butcher. Those little wings made him look so cute, and those golden shorts made his pert little ass so round and shiny. Butcher wanted to turn Hughie around and rub himself across the crack of those shorts, pressing at his little hole, but never going in, making Hughie desperate for cock and never giving it to him. Cum all over those shorts and leave Hughie like that, needy and frustrated until Butcher gave him his hand or mouth. Or Butcher wanted to turn Hughie on his back, spread him out on the bed or the floor and rub him off in his little gold shorts until he creamed himself and a little wet spot stained the fabric. He wanted to do it to him over and over again, make him see the stars and angels with just his hand and his little golden ass. Butcher wanted to peel off those shorts, stained with his cum, and lap at Hughie’s cock, making him wet and hot and hard too soon and make him cum all over again. And then when he was done with that, he’d flip Hughie over or pull his legs up to his hips and fuck him until Hughie was exhausted and ready to cum for a third time. And that last fuck would be so sweet for Hughie, make him so tired and make him fall into that little place Hughie and he hadn’t talked about yet, where his eyes turned glassy and everything felt both so good to Hughie and too much at once. That was Butcher’s favorite place too, it did something to his head, made his chest heavy and his heart light, and made him want to kiss Hughie until they couldn’t breathe no more and then some.

Butcher, caught in his own fantasies, all of which he’d get to one day or another, blinked when he felt Hughie, insistent and impatient, tug at Butcher’s pants. Butcher couldn’t have that. Because even though they’d been fucking for a good amount of time, Butcher still had some morals and fucking a drunk man without his consent wasn’t one of them. (Now, if they were both drunk, it was a different thing--but Butcher much preferred a sober Hughie; he got this look of wonder in his face every time Butcher took him in his mouth or gave him a hand, as if he’d never received that sort of assistance before and the anger that boiled in Butcher’s chest at the thought of that made him want to hold Hughie and kiss him and show him the world.) Butcher leaned down and pulled Hughie by the arms, steadying him as he stood.

Hughie pouted at him and leaned forward to kiss Butcher. Butcher allowed him a peck and then pushed him back a little, giving him a serious look. “You gotta sober up, Hughie, alright?”

“But I  _ am  _ sober,” Hughie told him.

Butcher gave him a look. “I doubt that.”

“Okay, I’m tipsy,” he admitted, voice going high, “but I promise, I’m just horny. And happy. And definitely tipsy.”

Butcher crossed his arms. “How much did you have to drink tonight?”

Hughie rolled his eyes. “What are you my dad?” 

“You want me to be your daddy?” Butcher returned. 

Hughie rolled his eyes. “No, I want your cock, Butcher. I wanna choke on it and I wanna get fucked in the mattress and I want you to spank me and I want your fat cock in my ass.”

Butcher liked the sound of that. “Alright, alright, but you need to sober up, princess. Got me?”

“I’m  _ sober _ ,” Hughie moaned. 

“Then spin clockwise then counterclockwise twice.” Hughie looked like he was going to complain, but Butcher was adamant on this. He wanted to fuck Hughie over the kitchen table, across the couch, and through the mattress, but only if Hughie was sober enough to actually whine and keen over it. Butcher raised his brow and made a spinning motion. 

“Ugh,  _ fine _ .” Then Hughie did as he was told, spinning in both directions. When he stopped, he looked a little dazed, a little wobbly, but certainly drunk. If he was wasted, he’d be on the floor, laughing his ass off because he couldn’t see straight. But, Hughie did lean heavily into Butcher when he stopped, betraying his influence. “Happy?”

“Drink a cup of water and then I’ll be fuckin’ happy.” Butcher dragged him over to the fridge and poured Hughie a glass. Hughie’s hand’s were glued to Butcher’s hips and every time Butcher was mildly distracted, Hughie swooped in to peck and kiss at Butcher. His boy started murmuring dirty little things in Butcher’s ear. Talking about how hard his cock was and how much he needed him, how he couldn’t wait to feel how thick Butcher was, how empty his hole had been all day, how the other boys at the party had wanted a touch but Hughie was a good boy and knew Butcher would make him feel better than any of those other men. Hughie, who hadn’t been over to Butcher’s in a couple of days, had fingered himself furiously, achingly the past few nights, practically desperate for Butcher’s fingers or cock or tongue, anything that he could get. He told Butcher that he wasn’t usually this horny--Butcher’s collective memory of Hughie’s slutty, slutty hole proved different--but he’d put on his Halloween costume and had wanted more than anything in the world to be fucked by Butcher’s thick cock. Butcher shut him up with a firm kiss. “Fuckin’ hell, Hughie, drink the damn water.”

Hughie made a show of it, tilting his head up as far as he could and taking long drags of water, just so Butcher would see his throat bob, see the reminder of Hughie’s talents. Hughie chugged the water--probably not good for him--and shook the empty glass at Butcher. “Happy now?”

“Yes.”

“Finally!” And then, before Butcher could think any further of it, Hughie fell to his knees in a single swoop, dragging Butcher’s sweats and boxers down with him. Butcher reached down to hold Hughie by the head, cursing when his good boy immediately lapped at his cock. There were only a few sights in the world that Butcher found to be a gift. The first was Rebecca--who he longed for in a way he couldn’t explain, but he felt every other widow who never knew what had happened to their beloved felt--and the other, becoming more and more prominent as the months passed by and Butcher was blessed with the sight of this man on his knees, back, side, chest for him, was Hughie. Nothing in this world was more surprising and delightful and fucking hot as hell then Hughie on his knees for him, licking at the tip like it was his favorite lolly, eyes closed in some sort of bliss. Butcher never thought the taste of another man was all that sweet, inviting, maybe Hughie thought so, but Butcher loved it for the control he felt when he had Hughie shaking for his release, the feeling of power and admittance to another. He could wax some more fucking poetic about Hughie’s lips and how he could cum with just his cock resting on that puffy bottom lip, but he couldn’t. If he did, his heart would do things it wasn’t ready for.

Hughie suckled at the tip, sliding his tongue along the head, eyes downcast. Then he slid further, warmth and wet and heat wrapping across the shaft. Hughie could do things with his tongue that Butcher couldn’t, but the sight of him on his knees was really what did it for Butcher. But one of these days, Butcher promised himself, he’d get them both on a bed and Butcher would suck Hughie off at the same time that he did it to Butcher and they’d both be so distracted by one another that Butcher would rub a finger at Hughie’s pink little hole and make him cum from that, weak when Butcher touched him there. Hughie’d moan around his cock as he fell apart and it would make Butcher almost cum, but he had more control than that and he’d slip out of Hughie’s wet lips and shuffle down the bed and rub his cock against Hughie’s limp, wet one and he’d cum all over it because Hughie would make those little needy whine and curl his fingers in Butcher’s hair and it’d be all over for them.

Butcher could see these fantasies like they were memories. He almost forgot that he was in the middle of making his own memory, of watching and feeling and groaning at Hughie sucking him off in the kitchen floor wearing those damn angel wings and golden booty shorts. Hughie pushed his cock to the back of his throat for a single moment. Air punched out of Butcher in a gasp. Then Hughie slid off of him and looked up at Butcher, pouting.

“Why’d’ya stop?” he slurred, eyes gone cross at the surprise hit of holy-fuck-that-feels-good-fuckin-cunt-wet-heat-fuck-fuck-fuck that hit Butcher when Hughie took him all the way down.

“Why aren’t you saying things?” Hughie pouted. Hughie wasn’t usually like this--something must’ve gotten into him that night or maybe it was apart of that glassy eyed thing or maybe it was apart of another game of theirs that Hughie hadn’t included him in on. “Every other time you’re a porno-fuck-machine and now you’re quiet? Fuck my mouth and call me a slut.”

Butcher reached down and yanked Hughie back up to his feet, cock still out and wet. He smothered Hughie’s lips with his own for a hot moment, arms tight around him. Then he reached down, squeezing Hughie’s ass tight through those shorts, pulled back and growled, “You want me to talk dirty, you fuckin’ cock-whore?”

Hughie’s eyes drooped as he sighed out a breathy, “Yes.”

Butcher kicked off his pants and shit and tugged off his shirt. He turned Hughie around and pushed him over the kitchen counter. Hughie moaned and chanted ‘yes’ as Butcher did this. “You want me to fuckin’ use you, you dirty little slut?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Butcher raised a hand and swung it down on Hughie’s ass. Hughie shouted. “Like this?”

“Yeah!”

Butcher did it again. “Yes?”

“Yeah!” Hughie dug his head into his arms and pushed his ass back into Butcher’s hand. Butcher pushed forward and rubbed his cock between the crack of those shiny shorts, feeling the smooth fabric over his cock like a fucking woman’s hands, so soft and so sweet on his cock. Hughie moaned at that. Butcher used both of his hands to grab at Hughie’s ass through the shorts, gripping his cheeks and rubbing and pulling them over his cock.

“Dirty fucking cunt wearing this around town? Wanted to get fucked did you?” Hughie nodded. “Wearing those little shorts. Tight around that little arse of yours--just ripe and wet aren’t you, just ready for the taking. And those little angel wings--acting so innocent. I know you’re just a slut who wants it.”

Hughie moaned.

“Naughty boy. Anyone could’ve pulled you over and fucked you, couldn’t they,” Butcher continued. He could imagine it: men and women leering at the sight of Hughie and his pert little nipples, the little angel wings on display. He imagined him on the metro, imagined the catcalls he’d get and maybe the bold hand or two. He imagined Hughie climbing into some man’s lap and getting his hole nice and wet from another man’s cock. He imagined Hughie on his knees for some other woman lapping at her cunt like a kitten with a cream. He imagined them all with Hughie, of making him their little pet for the evening, of showing him how filthy boys like him were meant to be used. It made him grit his teeth. It made him see red. Butcher smacked his ass again, wanting to hear that little gasp again and oh boy did Hughie fucking deliver. “You’re a fucking nasty little cunt like that aren’t you, Hughie?”

“No,” he whimpered.

“No?” Butcher rubbed his cock even harder against his crack. “You’re not a needy little bitch that’ll take it from any two-bit twat who wants a piece of the pie?”

“No,” Hughie told him. “Just you.” 

“Just me?” Butcher asked, a little surprised, but more than happy to hear it. Hughie nodded into his arms.

“Just want you,” voice tiny.

Butcher pulled Hughie up from the counter, twisting him around. Hughie was a solid wait in his arms, not as pliant as he was a moment before the confession. His cheeks were red and he was clearly a little embarrassed, but Butcher didn’t mind, fuck that, he was more than excited. He stole Hughie’s lips in a kiss and rubbed their cocks together through Hughie’s little shorts until Hughie was moaning for it again and his back had relaxed.

Enough of the kitchen. Butcher took Hughie over to couch and sat down on it. Hughie stood there for a moment, toying with his golden shorts. Butcher answered for him, dragging the sweet things off him. He wrapped his lips around Hughie’s cock as he did so, making him tremble, then let him go. Butcher patted his thighs in welcoming and Hughie climbed into his lap, knees on either hip. Hughie was a bit taller than him, but Butcher didn’t mind. It gave him access to those little nipples of his and Butcher sucked on them like he would any other gorgeous woman, with tongue and a hint of teeth. Hughie grabbed at Butcher’s head and moaned, holding him to his chest and rocking his erection into Butcher’s abs. Butcher dug his hand into the couch and pulled out a handy bottle of lube--for fuck’s sake, don’t think about it--and opened that bottle up, squirting plenty on his fingers so Hughie would be nice and wet for him tonight, and got to work rubbing those fingers between his cheeks before rubbing more so at his hole.

“Fuck--” Hughie groaned as Butcher did this. He mumbled it again and again as Butcher licked at his nipples and fucked him with his fingers, stretching him just enough so Butcher’s cock would fit, but he’d still feel it later. Then he got his cock nice and wet with his other hand, stroking it slowly to savor the slick glide. Before Hughie could moan the loss of his fingers, Butcher was slamming Hughie down onto his cock, eyes crossing at the sudden tight-hot-wet-fuck feeling of Hughie’s hole. Fuckin’ hell. Butcher growled and gripped Hughie by the hips. Hughie was forced up and down on his cock, mewling with each motion, thighs having given out and Hughie settled firmly on his lap. Butcher wasn’t able to lick at those puffy nipples anymore, but Hughie’s lips were there for the biting and neck for the sucking. All the while, Hughie was his little whore, moaning and screaming around his cock. 

“See this is where you belong,” Butcher mumbled, bouncing Hughie on his cock. “Right here, princess.”

Hughie’s eyes were squeezed shut.

“Fuck, you open so good for me. Such a good boy for me.”

Hughie made a sound at that. Sort of like a ughn! Butcher was so happy to have discovered Hughie’s little good-boy kink. He always turned into putty, into a fucked out mess when Butcher whispered it in his ear or praised him. Even when they weren’t fucking, Butcher was tempted to remind Hughie how good he was, how talented, how beautiful he was. But the noises he made when he was like this were the best. It drove Butcher wild, made him want to record them together, get soundbites of Hughie moaning and have it as his ringtone. He wanted to hear Hughie like that for the rest of his life.

“Your cunt’s so fuckin’ wet for me. I could just fuck you for days.” Hughie nodded at that. “Yeah, you like that? Course you would, little slut for my cock. Such a good boy, Hughie. So fucking dirty for me. You like having my cum in you?” Butcher ground into Hughie’s hole and didn’t raise him any higher, wanting an answer. Hughie seemed to get this, raising his hips again to fuck himself on Butcher’s cock, to keep them going, but Butcher stilled him with his hands, and asked him again. 

“Y-yeah,” Hughie whispered, eyes closed.

Butcher rewarded him by rising him up his cock. “You want my cum in you?”

“Yeah!” 

Butcher slammed him down again and Hughie keened, nails digging into Butcher’s back. Fuck, that was hot. Hughie’s hole clenched down on him, eager for him. “You want my cum all the time, don’t you, pretty boy? Want me to keep you here all weekend, keep you all nice and plugged up, keep filling up that wet hole of yours until you can’t take it anymore?”

“Fuck, Butcher--yes, please, fuck!”

“Want me to keep you here? Keep you nice and dirty, my good boy?” Hughie nodded. Butcher slammed him up and down on his cock, grip tight, unforgiving on his hips. Butcher was going to cum with how tight Hughie’s hole was getting. He wanted Hughie to cum, just on his cock, but he knew that wasn’t an often thing. 

“Please, Butcher, please cum in me.”

“Yeah, you dirty, dirty boy. Want all my cum in you. So good for me. So sweet.” Butcher nuzzled at his neck. Hand reaching around to wrap around his dick. “Makes me want to keep you,” he whispered. Hughie cried out at that. Butcher stroked him as well in time with his thrusts as he could, and Hughie was cumming all over himself like a messy boy. Butcher would teach him a lesson about that later, but Butcher liked the sight of the blissed out face Hughie was making and the way he quickly fell into Butcher’s shoulder, hole weak around him. Butcher kissed his skin and ground Hughie’s hole onto him a few more times until he too was cumming.

They slumped into the couch, still on one another. Butcher’s cock tingled where it was, wet and surrounded by heat and more than a little sensitive. But he liked it. He liked how spotty his own mind was and the feeling of Hughie’s back as he trailed his hands down his spine. Hughie’s lips pressed against the underside of Butcher’s jaw in tender little pecks. Butcher leaned back slightly, them both making noises as their shifting laps, and took Hughie’s lips in a sweet kiss. Hughie’s tongue was loose, pliant, more than welcome. Butcher wanted to keep him there in his arms forever.

He wanted to hold Hughie forever. He wanted to promise Hughie things. He wanted to take Hughie on dates. He wanted to see him laugh and see him smile. He wanted things with Hughie he hadn’t wanted with anyone in a long time. It frightened him and yet it also excited him. He needed to start planning, figure out a way to ask Hughie if they could be more. He needed to get his shit together, tie up loose strings, and see if Hughie even wanted anything more (even Butcher knew he’d have to be a fool to not see the want in Hughie’s eyes.) He wanted Hughie. 

But right now, more than anything else, more than the future’s plans or the past’s haunts Butcher wanted to hold Hughie in this moment and sink into this feeling of rightness. To never let go of it again.


	2. fuck, i'm sugar-sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just write this? yes
> 
> Is it still hot? god i hope so

_ This Halloween...  _

Even though Robin, Annie, and Butcher had some sort of blow-out scream session some point or another months ago when Butcher and him had started dating, Annie still liked to glare at Butcher. Hughie didn’t fault her for it. Butcher’d been an ex-cop at her precinct and had been a thorn in their division’s side for a couple years. And, Annie had become fiercely and surprisingly protective of Hughie in the past few months, especially after his and Butcher’s epic we’re-not-together fight. 

Still, if Annie could stop glaring at Butcher while they were at the party, that’d be great, thank you. Especially in Hughie’s own apartment. If they were at Robin and Annie’s, he’d get it, but this was Hughie’s party and he wasn’t about to let Annie ruin it with her and Butcher’s alpha bullshit. Hughie had everyone over for Halloween. A couple of college buddies, the old gang from the Homelander-debacle, and even Chad was going to stop by at one point or another with his husband. Hughie’s dad had thankfully gone out of town with a couple of work-buddies for some ghost-tour on Rhode Island. Hugh and Butcher had had little contact with one another, much to Hughie’s relief. Hughie didn’t want Butcher and his dad to get into some kind of spat during Halloween, one of his favorite holidays, and while Hughie was probably sloshed or wearing something inappropriate.

Thankfully, Hughie had made the smart decision to not dress too wildly this year, versus last year when he’d gotten fantastically drunk with his college buddies Leo and Brad while dressed as  _ Xena _ characters, then stumbled his way over to Butcher’s and got his brains fucked out. Hughie had been high off of dancing, being around his best friends, and the spirit of Halloween (and a couple shots of vodka) and was more than ready to bend over for Butcher at the fastest convenience. 

(Hughie tried to not think about what it felt like to be held in Butcher’s arms, to face him and crawl in his lap, and feel him inside him, to have their mouths press and tongues tangle under the blue light of Butcher’s TV screen. He tried not thinking about the words that had slipped out of his mouth, the embarrassment in his chest at the time, when they were still fucking at a time where their relationship wasn’t so clear and Hughie’s heart ached too much. He tried not thinking about the tenderness of Butcher in the moments after their fucking when he’d gathered Hughie in his arms, carried them over to the bed, and laid them down on it, fingers rubbing over Hughie’s hole teasingly, whispering a soft mine before they’d both passed out for the night.)

(Hughie  _ did _ like thinking about the next morning when they rubbed off on each other and Butcher’d rubbed at his rim until he was crying and had fingered him until his cum stained their chests. Then they had pancakes and coffee together. Then Butcher pulled Hughie by the waist into a makeout session against the kitchen counters because Butcher had liked the sight of Hughie in Butcher’s clothes a little too much, even if they weren’t going to get it up anytime soon.)

This year Hughie and Butcher dressed as two  _ Hunger Games _ contestants for two reasons. One, Hughie had recently watched the movie with Robin and she insisted he looked like Marvel (yikes.) Two, Butcher and Hughie forgot to get costumes and low-budget or not, they were going as a couple. Besides, Hughie was more likely to get Butcher in an all black set-up than in golden booty shorts and angel wings.

Butcher looked mighty fine in a black collared T-shirt and combat boots. The red and gray stripes on the sides made his eyes look darker and his jawline sharper. The beard, growing unruly again much to Hughie’s glee, made him look unhinged. And his biceps (Hughie wanted to run his teeth along the muscle) bulged past the shirt sleeve. All together, Butcher looked capable, dangerous, and ultra sexy. Meanwhile, Hughie looked leaner than usual in his costume, maybe like a child, so he was left looking like a tiny twink that didn’t know how to tie his shoes, much less hit a psychopath upside the head with a frying pan. 

Still, Butcher had laid his hand on Hughie’s thigh the moment they sat down on the couch together. Annie glared at that hand like it offended her greatly. Hughie wasn’t sure if it was because it was Butcher’s hand or if Annie hated the possessive gesture. Annie had her arm wrapped around Robin’s shoulder while she talked with their old college friends, so Hughie had an inkling it was related to the man not the action. That didn’t stop Hughie from rubbing his cheek against Butcher’s for a moment in return. Butcher’s hand tightened on his thigh before relaxing, a grumble rumbling through his chest at the act.

Hughie liked that Butcher was still getting used to tender touches. They both were, but where Hughie craved touch, expected it without getting it, Butcher was surprised by it, taking each moment cautiously and preciously as if he’d never considered that being with someone meant having intimacy with one another. 

Hughie swirled his mix drink, some kind of rum and fruit concoction, and smiled at Butcher. “You enjoying the party?” 

“I like your friend, Laz,” Butcher told him, taking a sip of his beer. Hughie wasn’t surprised, they both liked dark and dirty humor. “Nice of you to invite the Boys.”

MM was here with his wife--their daughter was at a Halloween sleepover--chatting with some of Hughie’s new coworkers and Frenchie was in the corner with Kimiko. They both were dressed in drag and by Frenchie’s giggling, it might be the night Frenchie finally made the move on the stoney woman. MM and his wife were Wonderwoman and Superman, looking as dashingly dangerous and sophisticated as usual. Robin and Annie were dressed as witches, which seemed appropriate.

“This is fun,” Hughie smiled, pleased with himself. And it was fun. Everyone--surprisingly everyone--had joined in on a rendition of the “Monster Mash” and  _ Rocky Horror Picture Show _ was playing in the corner. There were college stories being told and drunken tales recalled. There was pizza too and Hughie was so happy to be here with all these people that he knew and liked and knew liked him.

“Glad you’re having fun,” Butcher told him. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to think better of it and shook his head.

Hughie tilted his head. “What is it?”

“There are children in the room,” Butcher said.

Hughie laughed. There were only adults here. Alcohol laid on the kitchen counter and charcuterie on the table with cheese and crackers. No kids in sight. “Tell me.”

Butcher leaned forward to Hughie’s ear, the hand on his thigh sliding up a little. Butcher’s voice, low and growly, sent shivers down Hughie’s spine. Just the feel of his breath in his ear made Hughie tingle. “I can’t wait ‘till it’s over though.”

“Oh?”

“Fucking you in your bedroom always makes me think I’m takin’ some jailbait’s cherry.”

Hughie pulled back and laughed. Butcher smiled at him, eyes twinkling under the lowlights of his apartment. Hughied leaned in again when his laughter eased and whispered. “You don’t have an age-kink do you?”

“Not particularly,” Butcher murmured. “But who wouldn’t enjoy a pretty little whore moaning for your cock?”

“What do you plan to do to me?” Hughie teased, pressing closer to him. Hughie’s own hand trailed along Butcher’s thigh, which caused him to spread his legs. Butcher always needed to make room when they did stupid shit like this in public. 

“Well, if you’re a good boy tonight I might just have to show you.”

Hughie tilted Butcher’s head towards his and kissed him softly. Butcher and Hughie weren’t usually ones to invest in PDA or even casual kissing, but every time they did, Hughie felt something in his chest melt. “I’ll be good, I promise,” Hughie murmured. He kissed him once more before settling back in the couch.

“Good,” he chuckled.

Butcher’s hand didn’t leave his thigh for the rest of the night.

* * *

Hughie said goodbye to the last of the party people (Laz, Annie, Robin, and a work friend) with Butcher pressed firmly behind him. The moment the door was closed with a final “Happy Halloween!” cheered, Hughie was pressed against the door with Butcher’s mouth on his insistently, tongue fucking in and out slowly but surely, like all Butcher wanted to do was carve his way into Hughie and never leave. (Hughie didn’t have the heart to tell him he was already firmly inside his chest for all of eternity--too sappy and all that bullshit.)

Hughie had steadily hardened over the last fifteen minutes in part because Butcher had been slowly rubbing his hand up and down Hughie’s thigh, but more so because he’d been watching Hughie, eyes dark, intent, for the past twenty minutes and the anticipation had started to wreak havoc on Hughie’s dick. He wanted Butcher more or less now and wasn’t particularly interested in waiting any longer. Not when Butcher kept tightening his grip on Hughie’s hips and it caused his biceps to flex with the strength of it.

Now Butcher and him were all alone and Hughie was more than ready to get his brain fucked out. It was Halloween afterall, and they had their own rituals to complete (fucking one another and chanting each other’s names as they did it.)

Hughie dug his hands underneath the material of Butcher’s tight black shirt, nails scraping along his abs. Butcher’s breath hitched as he kissed him and Hughie raked his nails along his coarse happy trail, mouth watering from the kissing and the excitement of what laid buckled in Butcher’s pants. Hughie kissed Butcher on the cheek and stood up straight, grabbing his hand in his and leading them to his bedroom.

Small and slightly messy as always, coming back to his bedroom was strange these days because Hughie’d spent more than enough time in Butcher’s home instead of his. Still, everytime they did fuck here was more memorable than the last. Hughie and Butcher undressed quickly. 

“Come here, princess,” Butcher smirked, pulling Hughie by the pantloops. He unzipped Hughie, pushed off his pants, and stroked his cock in his dry hand. Hughie made a noise and his mouth fell to Butcher’s shoulder. He tried kissing at Butcher’s collarbone and shoulder, tongue heavy, and Butcher stroked him a few times. “Been so good for me tonight,” Butcher murmured. Hughie moaned at the thought. Then Butcher pushed him away (much like Hughie had for him) and guided him to the bed. Hughie got on it, stomach first, and buried his face in the blankets. Butcher took off his own pants and whatever else, and got onto bed behind Hughie. 

Hughie thought Butcher was going to spread his cheeks (or make him do it) and finger him as it was, but instead Butcher picked Hughie up by the hips and resettled him so that his knees were on the bed, but his was still pressed to the mattress. “Need me to do everything, don’t you,” Butcher murmured darkly. Then Hughie felt him part his ass, revealing his hole to the air. Hughie shivered at that and dug his face into his arms. He panted when Butcher did nothing else but pull at his asscheeks, reminding him of how opened and exposed he was. “Look at it,” Butcher said, “such a pretty little cunt, just beggin’ to be fucked, yeah?” Butcher rubbed a finger at his perineum. “Is that what you want, Hughie? Want me to get you all nice and wet, princess? Make your cunt all nice and pink? All puffy from my cock. Such a greedy hole.” Hughie’s cheeks burned. Butcher smacked his ass lightly. “Answer me, Hughie.”

“Y-yes,” he said, nodding into his arms. “Want it.”

“‘Course you do,” Butcher chuckled. “Sluts like you always do. Always need a fat cock, don’t you, Hughie?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Mmm,” Butcher hummed. “But you’ve been such a good boy tonight, Hughie, so fuckin’ good for me. Deserve a reward.” He did? “Yeah, something nice for my good boy.”

And then Butcher was leaning down and his tongue was tracing his hole. Hughie gasped. Butcher and him had taken a shower earlier tonight, but Jesus fuck, fuck. Butcher licked broadly at his hole a few times. Hughie felt the spit start to collect. Butcher wasn’t even trying to dip his tongue in, just lick at his hole, over and over, the broad length of his tongue over sensitive skin. Hughie squeezed his eyes shut in his arms, but that made him all the more sensitive. Soon enough there was wetness seeping down his crack and down to his balls. Hughie moaned. Wet trails, spit cooling, stained his skin. The only part that was warm was were Butcher was most, at his rim. His hole quivered at the prodding of his tongue. Hughie couldn’t figure out if he wanted Butcher to dig his tongue inside him, make him even more slippery, or fuck him with his fingers. All he wanted was Butcher’s voice, which wasn’t there, which was clearly distracted by getting Hughie wetter than any woman with the sheer power of his tongue.

“Butcher--” Hughie groaned. Hughie tried to turn around, tried to move, but Butcher’s grip on his ass, on his hips tightened and Hughie was kept in his place. Butcher had him where he wanted. Hughie moaned, needy. He wanted to hold Butcher and feel him on his back or chest. Wanted skin touching. So little of them were touching, just his fucking tongue and his firm hands. He wanted to hear his voice, to hear the way he said Hughie. “Butcher, please--”

Butcher’s tongue slipped into his hole. Hughie mewled at that. It was a small intrusion, that was true. But it was so much more of Butcher, his face digging firmly into his ass, his chest coming to rest against his thighs. Hughie felt the presence and could almost cry. And he was so wet, so fucking wet. It felt like Butcher had poured the lube directly into his hole and was now just trying to lick it up. Butcher fucked him with his tongue, rubbing his ass ungently, and had Hughie’s thighs shaking at that. Butcher had him pressing his hips back for more, eager and greedy and already exhausted with the effort. Then Butcher mumbled something, tongue vibrating, and Hughie wanted to scream. He wanted more and he wanted it now.

“Butcher, please--stop!”

Butcher stilled. He pulled away immediately. Hughie fell to the bed, rubbing his cock against the blanket before turning around in the bed. Butcher had a concerned look on his face. His beard was fucking wet--wet from rimming Hughie--eyes glazed, and he panted from were he stood on his knees, carefully away from Hughie. His eyes were dark, his lips red and puffy.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Jesus, fuck, his voice sounded wrecked from his rimming. “Did I do something wrong?

Hughie made a grabbing hand motion for Butcher. “No, I just--” Hughie’s other hand touched his cock for a moment, rubbing at the precum gathering there, and releasing it just as fast. “I want you right now, all over me. Please--”

Butcher crawled over him gently. Barely his cock brushed against Hughie’s. Their faces were near one another, but Butcher still looked worried. Hughie resisted the urge to roll his eyes and pulled Butcher down, kissing him and rubbing their cocks together and moaning and feeling how wet he was between his thighs and how much he wanted Butcher and how Butcher was groaning now that they were properly rubbing off against each other. Hughie reached under the pillow behind him and pulled out the lube he’d started burying there since he was thirteen and he discovered what his hand plus his dick did. Hughie uncapped it and squirted some on his hand and reached down to grab their dicks and stroke them together.

“Made me all fucking wet,” Hughie murmured. Butcher made a pleased noise at that.

“Fuckin’ hell I did,” Butcher slipped a hand under Hughie’s ass to rub at his wet cheeks. Hughie raised his legs and wrapped them around Butcher’s waist. It made him jerking them off more complicated, but it let Butcher rub at the wetness he left on his cheeks. “Was gonna make you all slippery and fuck you between your cheeks. Make you all wet with my cum. Make you needy for my cock, but never getting it.”

“I thought I deserved a present,” Hughie said.

“Any way I fuck you is a present, princess.” Butcher nipped at his lips. “Good boys cum from whatever I give them. Good boys take what they get.”

“Then do it.” Hughie kissed him. “Fuck me.” He let go of Butcher’s cock, but kept rubbing at his own.

Butcher made a noise and shifted them around. He made it so Butcher’s cock was rubbing between his cheeks, the head nudging at his hole but never going in. Hughie moaned at the tease and rather liked the way Butcher cursed. They tried to kiss, but it was hard from their angle, so Butcher did the next best thing and talked:

“Fucking rub your clitty, Hughie. Yeah, just like that, with the head. Get yourself off, pretty boy. Wanna see you cum. Make you cum all over yourself. Just like that, so good for me. Wanna cum all over you and make you wet. Wanna lick it all up and feed it to you. Good boys swallow. Are you a good boy for me Hughie?” All the while he fucked at his hole and Hughie tugged at his cock in feverish movements.

“Yeah,” Hughie mewled.

“So fuckin’ good for me. Cum for me, Hughie, come on.” Butcher’s dick pressed at his hole and he jerked himself off at his hole. “I’m gonna cum inside you, Hughie, can’t wait to see it dribble out of your pink cunt. All pearly white from my cum.”

“Fuck--” Hughie’s cheeks were bright red when he came all over his hand, eyes squeezed shut as he did so. Butcher chuckled and thrusted a few more times at Hughie’s hole before cumming against him. Hughie could feel some of it tucked just past the rim, hot wetness leaking out of him. The rest of it trailed down slightly.

Butcher trailed his fingers through his mess and scooped it all up, pressing it into his hole. “Right were it belongs,” Butcher murmured. He eased Hughie’s thighs onto the bed. He could feel it at his rim, all of Butcher’s cum, and he wanted it both further in, filling him up, and licked neatly away by Butcher’s tongue at the same time. Butcher laid down on top of him and they kissed lazily, sleepily. He felt Butcher’s fingers tease at his rim before he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS!!!

**Author's Note:**

> So uhhhhhhhhhh...
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
> 
> This is definitely more ooc than usual because I don't often write in Butcher's POV and it was MORE than a little disorienting. I kept having to remind myself that Butcher likes to dirty talk and that his mind is different than Hughie's. 
> 
> Also, yes, I made Hughie wear the outfit Karl Urban wore in Xena Warrior Princess as cupid. Originally I was gonna have Hughie dress as Frank N Furter, but I wanted to keep outfit references contained to these two boys. SO: twinky Karl Urban takes the stage!


End file.
